


Tales Lost in Time

by dracoMidnight



Series: Stars Under a Midnight Sky [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Also some foreshadowing as well, Blood, Blood Drinking, Chapter 4 is sad times, Childhood Trauma, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Heavensward made me very angry on one aspect, Heretics and their Dragon Blood, Mentions of Haurchefant, Nightmares, Other, Trauma, Very Slight Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-09-01 18:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20262763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoMidnight/pseuds/dracoMidnight
Summary: Changing this to be a collection of stories. The tiny 100 word drabbles may or may not reappear as I write.Changing to Mature for some of the chapters, but no explicit times with this one. That'll be in my other fic named a Searing Heat in Thy Bones.





	1. Being an Adventurer is Hard (Arinasai&Arkhai)

It had been a weary day for the two siblings as they finally stumbled into their inn room, coated in grime from their journey to Coerthas, making the two sorely want a shower and bath. Arinasi glanced over at his brother, who looked so close too falling over in his exhaustion and gestured to the bathroom in their room. “You can go first, Arkhai. I can wait a bit longer.” The thankful, but weary, look he received made him feel all the more for his twin as Arkhai set his firearm lightly beside the nightstand before disappearing into the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is with my two Xaela Au Ra twins.  
Arinasai is a conjurer and Arkhai is a machinist (currently an archer in game and may stay as one depending)
> 
> Also, AO3 confused me for a moment before I remembered that they go by character number not word count.


	2. Glaring Red (Z'lahli)

Z’lahli was not normally known to be so jumpy but… ever since the battle with Nidhogg and subsequently Estinien, he had been plagued with nightmares about the Great Wyrm. Even though he and Alphinaud tossed the Wyrm’s eyes, and heavily regrets doing so without damaging them, he can still feel their presence, their hate and rage stirring his mind to terror in the darkness of night. A knock at his door causes him to flinch, nicking his finger with the dagger he was polishing and causing a drop of blood to well up… and was his blood always that dark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Miqo'te boy, Z'lahli is a Ninja currently in game as he isn't lvl 60 yet. When he is though, he will be a Dancer...
> 
> Also spoilers for Heavensward (Dragonsong War) with this one, up to 3.4. Nidhogg's eyes made me so mad, because I knew, I just knew that something was gonna happen.


	3. Too Bloody Cold (Z'lahli&Midgardsormr)

A loud sneeze from Z’lahli startled the Great Wyrm sitting next to him, causing the lithe head to turn and look at him curiously. “Are you catching a cold?” Midgardsormr asked, his voice made it seem like he was laughing at him. “Well it’s not my fault that your lands are so bloody cold!” Z’lahli snapped, earning a low throaty huffing noise from the Wyrm, his form of laughter, “It ain’t funny!” Z’lahli huffed in indignation before looking startled when Midgardsormr lifted his wing up and gestured to him. “You can get warm next to me since you obviously can’t.”


	4. Old Habits Die Hard (Z'lahli&Z'thali)

“_Thali_! I want hot chocolate!” Had been his younger brother’s plea, which found Z’thali in the kitchen making the drinks. He hadn’t even _realized_ he was making an extra until Z’lahli entered the room, making him pause when he saw the three cups. “…Thali…” Z'lahli murmured, his voice pained, causing Z’thali to tense up as he realized what he was doing, his hands started shaking. Z’lahli softly went up to his brother and wrapped his arms around him from behind, burying his face into his back. “I miss him too…” Z’lahli’s voice was thick as he spoke, “I’m so sorry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haurchefaunt isn't mentioned by name but he is implied, which is why I am not going to add the character tag.  
Also, Z'thali is the elder brother to Z'lahli. Thali is 29 and Lahli is 24, Thali is also a dragoon.


	5. Of All Times, You Choose Now? (Z'thali&Estinien)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estinien is in this chapter and a lot of Stormblood spoilers are in this one. Up to the MSQ "In Crimson it Began" and a bit beyond with Estinien lurking about
> 
> Also a song that has been stuck in my head and works perfectly for most of my writings (new and unwritten and most of FFXIV honestly) is Battlefield,,, I've been listening to the Nightcore version while writing this.

The winds up here on the mountain slopes of Ishgard were freezing, bitter and sharp. Z’thali didn’t notice them though as he focused solely on the gravestone in front of him with its broken shield. His lance was resting loosely against his side but, at hearing a faint crunching noise behind him that made his ear flick ever so slightly behind him, he paused. Relaxing some more, letting the intruder come closer, before he spun himself around lance at the ready and pointing… “_You_. What do _you_ want?” He growled as he stared Estinien down, his lance at his throat.

Z'thali didn’t move his lance away as he stared the other dragoon down. What was _he_ doing up here and how long had he been watching him? His little brother had left Ishgard a long while ago, helping Lyse out with Ala Mhigo currently and Z’thali had told him that he would join him at a later date. Estinien had stiffened at the lance to his throat, glaring down at the Miqo’te who icily stared back up at him. “I am here because I think it would be in your best interest to know that Z’lahli had gotten hurt.”

“…_**What?**_”

“Your brother, the Scions, _and_ the Ala Mhigan resistance had gotten into an altercation with Zenos and he was hurt in the fight.” Estinien gruffly replied, having seen the explosions when he was following the newly born Primal and decided to investigate privately.

He only saw the end result of Z’lahli getting flung back after Zenos attacked him with a devastating flourish of his arm. Estinien had stayed just long enough though to see him getting some form of medical care before departing when he didn’t see Z’thali anywhere. That had been a handful of days ago though… and judging by the look of pure fury on Z’thali’s face… he had a feeling that he _hadn’t_ been notified yet.

Z’thali had his ears pinned flat as the grip on his lance became white-knuckled. “Where is he now?” He replied, his voice a low growl, eerily soft, that made Estinien pause as a shiver went up his spine.

“Still in Rhalgr’s Reach looking over Y’shtola and Alisaie more than likely, the both of them had gotten hurt,” was his short reply, slowly raising his hands into the air when the lance moved closer to his throat. Estinien placed one of his hands carefully on the lance and gently moved it away, never taking his eyes off the vibrant ice blue eyes narrowed at him. “I had a feeling that Z’lahli didn’t tell you. I had left a couple of days ago, but I wouldn’t doubt it that he is still somewhere in the area.”

Z’thali moved his lance away completely, setting the butt-end of it down into the snow with a crunch as he eyed the other. He nodded his head after a bit and teleported himself away without even a thanks. Estinien sure hoped that Z’lahli has his will written.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Z'lahli got a very stern talking to after his brother all but whooped his ass to the peaks and back before Z'thali made extra sure that the wound wasn't deep and that it was healing properly. Z'thali didn't tell Z'lahli who told him though, so he thought that it was Alphinaud that did and gave the poor unknowing boy the cold shoulder.
> 
> Also for a bit of info on my two Miqo'te brothers and their levels of closeness with Haurchefaunt, Z'thali had known Haurchefaunt for much longer than his brother as his duties and teachings as a Dragoon brought him back and forth in Dragonshead and he had stopped on more than one occasion to say hello and talk to him. He wasn't present when he was killed as he had been following a lead elsewhere as a precaution, Z'lahli on the other hand was and feels like it was his fault that Haurchefaunt had died as he should've been able to move out of the way. He was more than quick enough. So this backstory also kinda goes back to the previous drabble I had written,,,


	6. Foul Taste in the Mouth (Young-Silvaire)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning on this one, trauma and blood drinking.
> 
> Showing a part of Ishgard's dark side, specifically the heretics' side, with Au Ras.

“It burns…” Silvaire whimpered softly as the strange people crowded around him, holding his arms tightly as he curled in on himself.

One of these strange people had all but shoved a strange dark red liquid towards him, far too thick and with a sharp ashy and iron smell to it, and told him to drink it. They had first tried using soft cajoling murmurs, “It’ll help,” “It won’t hurt,” “This’ll heal your injuries.” _Lies, they were all lies_. Silvaire after a brief moment of hesitation finally took the cup with the weird liquid in it and took a sip from it. Only to promptly almost drop the cup as the substance _burned_ in his mouth and down his throat. Sharply coughing against the sensation, the feeling that he is burning from the inside. One of the people around him had grabbed the cup before it hit the ground, saving the liquid inside.

Another took the forgotten cup and gently tried again to get Silvaire to drink it, much to the boy’s distress as he violently shook his head. He leaned away, tears slowly falling down his face as he looked at the liquid that _hurts_ with fear.

“C’mon, you need to drink all of it… otherwise it won’t work.”

“I-it hurts… I don’t want to…” He whimpered, trying to move away from the cup as it was moved towards him again.

The people behind him didn’t let him move far though as the person holding the cup stepped closer.

“It’s almost done, I promise. You just need to drink all of it. Then it’ll be over, the pain is brief. It’ll be fine.”

Silvaire only shook his head more vigorously as he leaned further away, the tears falling steadily now. The small amount he drunk was making him feel feverish and lightheaded and he didn’t trust it. It _burned_.

The person in front of him, growing tired of the boy’s reluctance, took another step forward and cornered Silvaire. Leaning down with the small cup still relatively full of the strange substance that smelt of molten iron and ash, they forced Silvaire to drink the rest of it by prying his mouth open. Silvaire tried to bite the fingers, his sharp teeth nicking one finger but the person holding his mouth open didn’t flinch as they poured the molten substance into his mouth. Silvaire immediately tried to spit it back out only to have a hand clamped shut over his mouth and one pinching his nose closed. He tried to thrash, to move away, to spit whatever it was in his mouth out. The other people around him held him down and Silvaire cried, muffled around the hands covering over his mouth and nose. _It burned, it burned, it **burned**_. He wanted the substance that felt like it was melting his mouth out. Silvaire’s feeling of lightheadedness got worse till he eventually had to swallow the vile substance in his mouth, feeling it burn its way down to settle heavily in his stomach.

That was when everyone finally let him go and he choked and coughed on the cold, hard stone floor of the cave that they were hiding in. Trying to hack the liquid back up but it just wouldn’t. The burning feeling got worse, he felt feverish and dizzy. Vision swimming as pain lanced through his bones causing him to scream in agony. Silvaire didn’t know what was happening, who these people were, or what it was they gave him. Through blurry eyes he looked down at the ground where his hands were clenching on the bare stone and saw claws and far more scales than normal. He dry-heaved then as pain worse than any he has felt before ripped through his entire body. It was like every bone was being shattered. He barely heard one of the people talking to another, saying that ‘the blood took well’, whatever _that_ had meant.

It was all a haze of what happened next, like his mind had separated from his body that was now writhing on the floor. He heard his voice shift, becoming more resonant as his screams turned into a roar that didn’t sound human. What he felt clearly though was a sharp pain that was somehow even worse than all the other pains he had felt that day, making them seem like mere aches, as wings forced themselves from his back. The dizziness, the searing heat, the all-consuming pain. Silvaire's mind snapped under everything and he lunged out, jaws filled with sharp teeth wide open-

-Only to lunge up out of bed, eyes snapping open and unseeing briefly, the sheets wrapped around his legs as he almost fell to the floor with his thrashing. His breathing was sharp and loud in his horns as he tried to get his wits about him. Silvaire looked around the room warily, taking stock of everything and slowly recognizing the room he was given at the Mizzenmast. He fell back onto the bed, shivering as he looked up at the ceiling, pale light filtering in from the windows showing that it was still nighttime. Silvaire looked at his hands as he brought them, trembling, up to his face, stared at the scales that covered them and the sharp claws at the ends. He dropped them almost immediately and rose from the bed, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep again. He never could when one of _those_ nightmares showed up. It’s fine though. He has a project that he can continue working on anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This another one of my alts that I had recently finished developing a backstory too! They are half raen/half ishgardian elezen and this is a lil backstory thing for them.
> 
> And for more info (as I may or may not write another lil backstory thing for Silvaire with this), both his parents were killed for 'being' heretics. Or, in other terms, another house wanted to tear down Silvaire's father's house and planted what they thought was a false statement to the Knight's Most Heavenly about him meeting up with a heretic. Turns out he was meeting up with someone and shock and utter surprise it was a heretic (really just a raen au ra) and killed both of them. Silvaire was found and "rescued" by a small group of heretics where they gave the boy his first taste of dragons blood. He was 5 years old when this all happened.
> 
> Also, also, here is what Silvaire looks like - https://twitter.com/dracoMidnight/status/1211883415877763072?s=20


	7. Welcome to the Team (Eyvald&Silvaire)

“Silvaire? A bit of an odd name for an Au Ra isn’t it?” Thancred asked when he had cornered the Raen later that day, after Silvaire and his traveling companion, Eyvald, had joined the Scions.

They originally had their eyes set on Eyvald as they knew that he had the echo but weren’t so certain about Silvaire since none of the Scions had watched his progress. However, Eyvald’s single condition to joining them was by letting Silvaire join with him and so they allowed it, not wanting to lose another helper with the primal problem nor an extra set of capable hands. Thancred only belatedly realized that they didn’t ask Silvaire if he had any strange visions or random bouts of sickness himself. But judging from the Au Ra's general lack of talking the entire time they were discussing with Eyvald, Thancred doesn’t think that he is going to get much of an answer. The fact that he was clearly still trying to wrap his head around things with the slight furrow in his brows and Eyvald’s concerned lingering behind him were clear indications that he may not get much in the way of questions. Perhaps Eyvald can enlighten him though if Silvaire proves to be untalkative in the current moment.

Thancred, therefore, wasn’t expecting for twin red eyes to look down at him. One a deeper hue with purples, that seemed briefly surprised, and the other a far brighter hue that seemed to tell him that he shouldn’t have mentioned it let alone thought of the question. He was about to retract his question when Silvaire surprised him with a response, though relatively quiet but loud enough still to be heard clearly.

“I have been told before that it is, yes. Especially since Raen more commonly inhabit…” Silvaire pauses, the name of the place leaving him as he tried to grasp at it. He knows that he should remember the name, and he does remember it, fuzzily, being told to him by his mother years ago. Yet he can’t quite grasp it.

Eyvald picks up on his floundering for the name and speaks up, his eyes softening some as he helps Silvaire with the forgotten name, “Othard.”

Silvaire glanced up at Eyvald briefly before nodding as recognition and relief flits through his eyes, “Yes, there, thank you. Apologies… ser…?”

“Thancred. There’s no need for formalities either. As Minifilia has mentioned before, you are among friends.”

A flicker of doubt, so quick, flashed across Silvaire’s face that Thancred almost thought he imagined it, but then Silvaire was continuing, “Still, I must apologize. I have a lot on my mind currently.” He inclined his head forward slightly, a partial bow.

“Tis alright. A lot has happened today after all!” Thancred’s tone takes on a lighter pitch before he prods again curiously, “I don’t know much about the Far East, but I have heard that Au Ras are more common there. Which is why it is curious to me that your name is far different than what I have heard about in passing. You were born there no?”

Again, he received a look from Eyvald. His bright red eyes almost squinting down at him and Thancred glanced up at the Hrothgar with a raised brow, questioning. Only to have him turn away and down to look at Silvaire just as the corners of the Raen’s mouth tugged down in a frown and he glanced away.

“No, I wasn’t born there. If I was, I wouldn’t have forgotten the land’s name. My mother was however… though I am not quite sure as to her reasons for leaving.”

Eyvald spoke up then to add more detail to the patchy bits in Silvaire’s memory, “Garlemald has been a looming presence in the Far East I’ve heard. Specifically, Othard. Though I don’t know how up to date that information is. But it is a guess as to why she may have left.”

Thancred nodded his head in agreement at that, adding his own confirmation, “Tis true. News takes a while to travel here from the Far East and more often than not arrives only in the ports of Limsa Lominsa as they are known to trade with their merchants.” He has his chin in the palm of his hand as he thinks over what had been said, his eyes looking out to the distance partially before refocusing on Silvaire once more, “Where is your mother now?”

Eyvald hissing at him softly startled him even as Silvaire answered, far to quickly with a soft tone, “Dead.”

He sounded almost disconnected and uncaring from the whole situation if his eyes didn’t say otherwise while Eyvald took a half step closer, letting Silvaire lean on him if he wanted too. Silvaire wasn’t looking at either of them, instead looking off over Thancred’s head at some far away point.

“Oh… I apologize. I didn’t mean to bring any bitter memories up.” The rogue’s voice was more subdued with the turn in the topic, his tone softening as he looked at Silvaire with a gentle look. Not quite sympathetic but not exactly pitying either. Silvaire wasn’t sure as he couldn’t properly read the others face clearly. He’ll ask Eyvald about it later in the privacy of their room.

“It’s fine. You had no way to know, an afore you ask. My father is also dead.” Silvaire’s eyes finally moved back down to Thancred’s, the color in them an almost eerie reddish purple that sent a faint shiver down the hyur’s spine even as he shrugged with a loose smile.

“There goes my next question then. Once more, I apologize for bringing the topic up. I do have another question for you though if you don’t mind my prying that is?” At a shake of the Raen’s head Thancred continues, “Where were you born? If you don’t mind that sort of question. The question is also extended to you as well Eyvald. I am curious to know where the two of you hail from.”

Silvaire was the first to respond, “I don’t mind the question, an’ I was born in Limsa Lominsa. My mother had traveled around a lot, but she always seemed to go back to the seaports. At least that is what I have been told…” He honestly barely remembers what she has done, when he tries to it is like trying to wade through a dense fog. In which he gets nowhere but roundabout circles that eventually lead to _that_ day that he still so desperately tries to bury.

Eyvald was watching Silvaire with a soft caring look once more and gently placed his hand on the other’s shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture to Thancred. He responded in turn after Silvaire finished speaking, looking over at the hyur. “I was born in Ilsabard myself which is the homeland of my people. Left to flee the Empire.”

It was Silvaire’s turn to glance up at Eyvald with a semi-surprised look before the look disappeared. It seemed like he didn’t know where his companion was born from, Thancred thought when he witnessed it. Either way he listens, silent and thoughtful, only more curious at the both of their answers. Especially so since he is going to be working with the both of them. But at a look at the two and their weariness from traveling clearly starting to settle in he relents with a bow and a warm thanks. Making sure to offer to the both of them if they would like to go get a drink later.

They never really got those drinks later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyvald Lantasch is my Hrothgar and he is on Mateus and Silvaire is on Goblin currently
> 
> Eyvald also knows Silvaire's backstory and Silvaire knows parts of his, he does know the truth as well behind why Eyvald left, I may write a lil fic for that specific time. Both of them do have the echo as well, Silvaire's is more aetherically tied and similar to Krile's while Eyvald's is more foreseeing and predicting.


End file.
